Overnight Gingerbread French Toast Breakfast Bake

November chill settling in — and by "chill" I mean it's sixty-five degrees and half of Baton Rouge is wearing parkas. I'm in a flannel. Cajuns don't do parkas. We do flannels, and if it gets really cold — below fifty — we add a second flannel. This is the official Beaumont cold-weather protocol.

Deer season is in full swing. I went out Saturday morning and sat in the stand and didn't see anything except three squirrels, a hawk, and the sunrise, which was enough. Not every hunt is about the harvest. Some hunts are about the quiet, about sitting in a tree while the world wakes up below you and reminding yourself that you are small and the woods are old and the sunrise doesn't care about your mortgage or your insomnia or the crack in the cottage floor. The sunrise just does its job. I should be more like the sunrise.

Colette has started cooking with me. Not just watching, not just stirring — cooking. She made scrambled eggs for the family on Sunday morning: butter in the pan, eggs whisked with a splash of milk, low heat, constant stirring. She did it perfectly. The eggs were soft, creamy, not overcooked. I didn't help. I stood three feet away and watched, and she looked at me when they were done and said, "How are they, Papa?" and I said, "Perfect, cher," and I meant it. Her eggs were better than mine. I didn't tell her that. Some compliments are dangerous. A nine-year-old who knows she's better than her father at eggs will become a nine-year-old who attempts gumbo unsupervised, and I'm not ready for that.

Made a venison and sweet potato stew — chunks of venison from the deer, sweet potatoes from the farmers' market, onion, garlic, chicken stock, and a dark roux. The sweet potato breaks down into the gravy and gives it a sweetness that balances the gaminess of the venison, and the roux holds everything together the way roux always does — quietly, fundamentally, like the thing you don't notice until it's gone. Served over rice. Always over rice. The rice is not optional. The rice is constitutional.

After Colette put those scrambled eggs on the table Sunday morning and looked at me like she already knew she’d nailed it, I started thinking about what I could give her to run with next time — something she could help me set up the night before and then pull from the oven herself come morning, while I’m still lacing up my boots for the stand. This overnight gingerbread French toast bake is exactly that kind of recipe: you do the work on Saturday night, the oven does the work on Sunday, and by the time you’re back from the woods smelling like cedar and cold air, the whole house smells like molasses and cinnamon and something good is waiting. November deserves that kind of breakfast.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 8 hrs 5 min (includes overnight rest) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 loaf brioche or French bread (about 14 oz), cut into 1-inch cubes
6 large eggs
2 cups whole milk
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons unsulphured molasses
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (for topping)
3 tablespoons brown sugar (for topping)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (for topping)
Powdered sugar and warm maple syrup, to serve

Instructions

Prep the dish. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with butter or nonstick spray. Spread the bread cubes in an even layer across the dish.
Make the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, heavy cream, brown sugar, molasses, vanilla, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and salt until fully combined and smooth.
Assemble. Pour the custard evenly over the bread cubes. Press the bread down gently with a spatula so every piece is soaked. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight, or at least 6 hours.
Preheat and prep the topping. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350°F. In a small bowl, stir together the melted butter, 3 tablespoons brown sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon. Drizzle and sprinkle evenly over the top of the soaked bread.
Bake. Remove the plastic wrap and bake uncovered for 45—50 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the custard is set in the center. A knife inserted in the middle should come out mostly clean.
Rest and serve. Let the bake rest for 5 minutes before cutting. Dust with powdered sugar and serve with warm maple syrup on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Overnight Gingerbread French Toast Breakfast Bake — For the Sunday Mornings That Belong to Her